“What they said about the disaster, about all the deaths and chaos, was a lie. A filthy, filthy godsdamned lie. There was no accidental discharge of magic. There was no negligence in our work. There was no fault on any of us for what happened, no matter what you read or were told otherwise. What happened, happened because of one man, a man who happened to have the right last name to see the truth dead.”

—Angry Rant, Norin Cragscar, The Golden Age, 4992

Vincent’s mind spun wildly as he followed Norin forward, feeling as if he’d been cast adrift into a violent, heaving ocean.

It’s a Conduit. The reservoir is a Conduit. Was a Conduit. Vincent thought, the mental words arriving as a flurry into his mind, one beginning before the other could finish. They tried to turn it into a collector, but one for dark mana. But it didn’t work. Did they miscalculate something with the Ley Line? I don’t know what else could cause such a blast. Anyway, there have to be other towers somewhere along the shore. At least two more. I mean…that’s if they all survived the ages and whatever else happened down here.

Yet as soon as that train of thought ended, Vincent was abruptly whisked away by another one, his outstretched senses picking up a trace of mana whose presence finally made sense to him.

That finally explains why I keep sensing Aether mana here over the water, and why there are even traces of bright mana here in the first place, he thought while turning to look at the foul, brackish lake. There looks to be just enough natural Aether still seeping up from the Ley Line to restore whatever dark mana it touches, which is likely why there is any bright mana down here in the first place. Though…if there is still aether seeping out naturally…does that mean that any of the surviving conduits might still work? If I could get close enough to see—

A flash of movement from beside Vincent interrupted his thoughts before they could reach their end, prompting him to turn and see Norin staring back at him.

“We’re here,” he announced with flash of his fingers, canting his head ahead as they moved. “And so are they.”

“Uh, right, okay,” Vincent said as he forcibly reinserted himself back into the present, turning his head to see where Norin had indicated and almost found himself surprised to see that they were rapidly approaching the broken, hollowed out remains of a stone building on the shoreline. But more than just noticing the dirty ruin for the first time, he also saw that it wasn’t empty, with a pair of rough looking dwarves with earth aspected manamarks staring directly at them. However, as Vincent soon discovered as they drew closer, the stares that they held were far from antagonistic, one of them calling out in a clear voice.

“How bad was it?”

“No deaths, but they took Theo,” Norin immediately signed back as he and Vincent continued to close, the distance still separating them and the waiting dwarves not so great so they couldn’t see his signing. “On top of wrecking the place and looting almost every valuable supply we had.”

It was a response that both instantly angered the dwarves, a layer of tension visibly forming across their shoulders as twisted scowls crossed their faces. Yet before either of the two could say anything more, Norin’s hands started signing again.

“Would have absolutely lost one of ours without Vincent’s help. He came just in time to mend her,” he said, their journey finally taking them close enough to the ruin as to be just out of arms reach of the men, both of which immediately focused upon Vincent, a familiar sort of awe appearing in their eyes.

“Wait…is this him?” One of the dwarves replied, this one dressed in worn, yet still serviceable studded leather armor, complete with a sword at either hip. “The one who slew the Deepchewer? He isn’t…”

“Riven?” Vincent asked when it became clear that the man didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “Not anymore.”

“He’s here to help find and bring Theo home,” Norin added a second later, his fingers signing rapidly before going on to motion at the building beyond. “Now, is my brother here? We need help finding where Theo was taken.”

“Borin’s here.” The dwarf replied, pausing as if he was going to stay something before simply shaking his head and continuing. “Has been expectin you too. Just go on in. You’ll find him and the others inside, tryin… trying to make sense of this mess.”

“Aren’t we all,” Norin replied, the quick gesture being accompanied by a grunt right before he resumed walking, trusting that Vincent should follow him.

Which he promptly did after his mind had a second or two to catch up.

“Wait, Borin?” He immediately asked once he’d caught up with the fallen ascendant. “That’s your brother’s name?”

“Yeah, it is,” Norin replied with a single hand as they entered deeper into the ruin, which much like everything Vincent had seen so far had been ravaged by violence and magnified by profound neglect. “What of it?”

“Uh, nothing,” Vincent quickly answered back, a vague warning of danger arriving through his Insight, telling him that he should abandon whatever line of questioning he was about to take. So instead however, he focused on the next most interesting thing, which happened to be a set of what looked like four jagged claw marks carved along a stone wall, stretching what looked like the better part of ten feet. “What in the realm did that? Theo told me about what happened to the reservoir, I mean about the disaster way back, and I read a tome explaining some of it more. But these claw marks here…they’re big, really big. I take they were from another monster from the water?”

It was a question that Vincent was hoping would shift the topic of conversation into something more neutral before they arrived at their destination, unfortunately as he soon discovered, it did anything but. Slowing to a stop as soon as the question was posed, Vincent was rewarded with an inscrutable, yet clearly far from pleasant expression from Norin.

“No. Not a monster from the water,” his fingers informed Vincent as curious, if still cold, gleam appeared in his eye. “Tell me, do you happen to remember what a Scouring is?”

“I, uh, I don’t,” Vincent replied, his eyes unable to help but widen at the dwarf’s question, his eyes going back to the scarred wall. “I mean, I do, but only the name. I saw it mentioned a couple of times in a tome I read and gathered enough context as for it to be a dire event.…but I haven’t had time to delve deeper than that.”

The answer was one that clearly didn’t sit well with Norin as he instantly scowled at the explanation, though this time it didn’t seem directed at Vincent, but rather at the claw mark beside them.

“It is a demon attack,” Norin stated after a long pause. “They were what caused this. They were what caused everything to go wrong down here.”

“You mean with the reservoir?” Vincent said with a sudden note of excitement, it not being hard to quickly clue in to what Norin meant, even if he wasn’t completely clear as to what exactly he meant by demons. “That it wasn’t a blast that destroyed whatever the city was trying to do with the Ley Line out there?”

But again if Vincent was expecting a simple response to his statement, it never arrived. Instead he found himself on the receiving end of a completely incredulous stare from Norin, one that somehow made him appear even more speechless than he already was.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“How,” he signed before his fingers immediately lost all sense of cohesion in his speed, prompting him to start over. “How could you possibly know that there is a Ley Line there? Let alone that we were working to tap it.”

“Because I recognized the siphon tower in the ruin over there,” Vincent replied with the all too familiar feeling that he’d said or volunteered too much. However by now he was used to the problems that it brought on and simply buried the stress, motioning towards the now not so distant structure, it’s tip just barely visible from their current place inside the open ruin. “And I’ve been sensing Aether over the water since the first day I woke up here. It wasn’t a hard connection to make.”

Following his hand, Vincent then saw a variety of emotions play across the still living parts of Norin’s face as he too stared up at the tower, his gaze lingering on the distant metallic structure for several seconds. But as quickly as the emotion appeared, so too did it vanish as Norin shifted to look back at Vincent, his face completely blank once more.

“We’ll need to talk about how you know that later, once this business in front of us right now is all over.” He signed. “But until we do. Don’t mention it to anyone. Ever. Including my brother. Understand?”

“Of…course,” Vincent replied slowly, wondering what sort of trouble he’d just managed to get himself into and cursing his lack of practical knowledge of the realm yet again. Fortunately though that simple assurance was all that Norin needed in the moment, the man giving him a curt nod before motioning for them to start moving once more, this time at a much quicker pace.

Navigating through the skeletal remains of whatever the ruin had once been, Vincent was only able to get a cursory glance at the remainder of the damage that covered the walls and floor. However even with that brief look, it was impossible for him miss more of the same claw marks that he’d seen earlier, along with what was clearly magically inflicted damage, sections of melted, pockmarked, and shattered stone visible almost everywhere he looked.

Definitely looks like a battle now that I think about it. But…why would have they covered up what really happened here? Vincent wondered as they moved, his mind and body still taut and overwhelmed by his earlier discovery and what it could mean for him. Yet that passing observation was all that he had time for before they arrived at their destination, which happened to be the hollowed out center of the ruin, whatever it had once contained having long since been lost to time. However, that did not mean that it was empty. Far from it in fact, as no sooner did they exit the final hallway leading into wide sweeping chamber were they greeted by six waiting figures all gathered and sitting around a low burning fire pit.

One of whom immediately spoke out.

“Took ya long enough,” it said in a gravelly, yet not at all hostile tone, its source belonging to a dwarf that promptly rise from the otherwise sitting group towards them. However where the other dwarves appeared more subdued, or at least less pronounced, when it came to the earth, fire, and water manamarks that their bodies bore, the same couldn’t be said for him. A stark difference that Vincent immediately realized was because of place along the path of Ascension, which was a league further than any of the others.

Having become a relatively easy thing to piece together after his days exploring the city and chance to study the effects of modern magic, the first clue to the man’s power was the fact that hair and beard had taken on a molten, almost magma like appearance. But while an obvious clue as to the dwarf’s dominant affinities, the marks did not end there, with prominent, glowing channels of red and gold visible across his exposed skin, their precise almost runic lines speaking to their intentional and purposefully cultivated presence. It was look that was completed with a set of completely golden eyes, whatever other definition or detail they might have otherwise once held now gone in the ocean of mana that now suffused them. Yet even with all that competing for Vincent’s attention, it was easy to see a familiar resemblance that still lingered there, letting him easily place just who exactly he was as his attention fixated wholly upon Norin.

“Was startin to think ya got lost.” The dwarf added as he took a step forward out from the group, his arms stretching out wide in greeting.

It was a statement that was promptly answered by a grunt from Norin who didn’t slow in the slightest as the other dwarf that had spoken continued to approach, the two of them taking quick and precise strides towards one another before crashing together in an embrace. Lasting for three thunderous slaps on each other’s backs, ones that Vincent felt echo into his chest as he came to a wary stop, the two then pulled away from one another, Norin’s quickly turning so that his hands were visible to all.

“Took the scenic tour,” he signed with a tight pinch to his face. “Couldn’t pass up the chance to relive old nightmares.”

“Hrm, I suppose this place has plenty of those,” Borin replied, the statement earning a round of muted grunts from the other dwarves nearby, each of them dressed in similar armor as the others they’d seen outside the ruin. But that was as far as the greetings went before the man’s expression hardened and he asked the same question Vincent had heard time and time again. “How bad was it?”

A question that just as all the other times, Norin answered the same way, his fingers moving in a familiar explanation that eventually caused everyone to not only bristle in anger, but to focus upon Vincent when his part of the story came into play.

“Then it looks like we owe ya two sets of thanks, one for Tenisa’s life and another for the chewer,” the fire-haired dwarf stated when Norin’s explanation was over. “And I suppose it should surprise none of us to see ya mended right quick. After all, ain’t Tempereds supposed to be a cut above the usual chaff?”

“So I’ve been told,” Vincent said, finding himself more than a little off balance as to the way seemingly everyone not only already knew about him and his deeds, but also reacted when they heard and saw that he’d recovered from his injuries. As if curing one’s riving as quickly as he did was supposed to be an incredible feat.

Maybe it is in today’s day and age, he thought idly as he matched all of the various stares that he was on the receiving end of before realizing that they were expecting for him to say something more as to his recovery, but what exactly, he had no idea. Fortunately it was something that Norin picked up on the longer that the silence stretched, his hands eventually starting to move once more.

“Don’t doubt you know why we’re both here,” he signed in his typical quick fashion. “We need to know where they could have taken Theo, and quickly. They’ve already shown they don’t care for the rules, soon as they take what they need from him. He’s done for.”

“Aye…he certainly would be, and ya can count on our aid if for no other reason than Ayre being as good as kin…ta say nothin bout us needin to find some answers to the hand’s troubles,” Borin stated slowly, his head nodding in agreement as he spoke. Yet even as he did, his attention shifted to focus wholly upon Vincent. “But before we start walkin down that path, I wanna to know just how this mess, and yer place in it, came to be. The Hand is far from a fresh pack of peelers, blind to as how things are done in the dark. In fact, they’re old. Ancient even. Means they know full well what would happen if they went breakin one of the rules. And then, to top it all…Ascendants, even Fallen ones, don’t come plungin from the sky on a whim, let ‘lone cause such an excitin arrival.”

Nodding as the man spoke, Vincent couldn’t help but agree with Borin’s desire to get more context, especially given how lost he was himself, and he had actually lived through everything. Unfortunately though, he also knew how little he had to add to the overall situation, watching the man’s brows furrow in disappointment, confusion, and anger as Vincent told him how he first became involved with the Shadowed Hand.

“Feck. So it’s just blind, dirty, luck then,” Borin stated once Vincent had finished explaining everything, both he and the other Stonecloaks looking as if they were just shy of spitting blood. “The thieves were inches away from carving you apart, and would have, if it weren’t for a flash of bad blood that was already cookin.”

“Essentially,” Vincent replied, unable to fully suppress the shiver that crossed his spine as he agreed with the man despite having had plenty of time to come to terms with how close his survival had truly been. “And ever since then I’ve been trying to find out exactly what happened to me in the first place. Though it looks like the Shadowed Hand came looking for me first.”

“Somethin I promise ya they’ll be regretin before the night is out,” the man growled, his eyes dropping down in thought for several seconds before leaping back up to meet Vincent’s. “If I said the name, Marvus Thorn, would that mean anything to ya?”

“No, I’m sorry it wouldn’t,” Vincent answered with a shake of his head, his already surreal evening turning only more so with every passing moment. “Should it?”

“Honest? Was hopin it would,” Borin said with a grimace, this time his attention shifting over towards Norin. “Till this mornin he was the one we all thought was runnin the Hand. That is until word broke he’d been butchered in his hideaway, couple weeks ago too sounds like. Not an easy thing to do to a Tempered. But seein as what ya were before fallin, I had a thought and a prayer that it coulda been ya that tore him apart.”

“Wait, he was a Tempered too?” Vincent replied, seeing the dwarf nod his head in response before shifting to look over at Norin who started to rapidly sign.

“Hold on, if they just found out Thorn is dead today, then that’s could have been what made them desperate enough to hit the clinic,” the mute dwarf said, a thoughtful look upon appearing upon his face. “Think he got eaten by a hungrier beast from within?”

“Good a guess as any, now that we know it wasn’t him,” Borin replied a hard look appearing in his eye as they drifted back to focus on Vincent. “Right now though, we’ve got a basket more of questions than answers, and that don’t sit well under my skin.

“But as it happens,” he continued after a second’s pause, the intense look upon his face only deepening. “We’ve got an inkling as where to go looking for some of those answers, and with luck, find yer missing boy too.”